Title: Something More Sinister

Author: Ambur

Rating: M

Beta: Brandi R. Thanks so much for your help, lady!

Disclaimer: Still not mine

Notes: Review if you enjoy!


Chapter 3

Molly had no idea where she was. This was London, but not the London she knew. This place was far more sinister. There was hardly anyone out at all. The street lamps flickered on and off. Shops were either boarded up or had security bars on them as did the flats. And the few people she saw scurrying about looked either dangerous or utterly desperate. Molly actually felt pity for them as she made her way down the streets, praying to not be noticed by one of them.

She could no longer control the shuddering and jerking of her body as it desperately tried to warm itself from the inside out. Her teeth ached from chattering loudly. She was soaked to the skin with ice, rain, and snow. Molly had nothing on to protect herself from the elements except what she had on when she had been in the lab with Sherlock…Sherlock…a sob tore from her chest. The pain in her heart was so powerful that she stumbled, catching herself on some old wooden crates before she hit the ground.

Was he looking for her? Did he even realize she was gone? Did he know what had happened? She didn't even know what had happened, but she prayed through her tears that he would be able to discover what had happened and find her. She knew that he was probably her only hope at getting out of this hell.

Molly clamped her hand over her mouth when she thought she heard a sound somewhere close behind her. She was so exhausted, she honestly did not think she could keep going. The pain in her limbs from the bitter cold was almost unbearable and her lungs burned from her sobbing and the dampness.

She turned and gasped loudly when she saw a black Mercedes coming slowly down the alley way that she was currently in. She ducked behind the crates she had used to steady herself. Slowly, the car came to a stop. She hunkered down even further onto herself when she heard footsteps coming from behind her in the opposite direction of the car. She knew she had been caught. They had herded her, frightening her with noises, footsteps, and mysterious shadows under the lamp light as she had ran from them.

She heard the car door open and heard a deep sigh.

"Dear Molly, you must be freezing and very frightened. You are a stranger here. Come out and let me help you."

She recognized the deep baritone of his voice and had to clamp her hand even tighter over her mouth to keep from crying out. It was his voice, but it wasn't him.

"Molly…" The baritone was annoyed now. "Come out at once. Believe me, you do not want me to come and retrieve you, love."

Her skin crawled with his false endearment.

"Molly, you will not last the night in this weather. If you don't freeze to death, you will catch pneumonia. And if illness does not get you, one of the many vagrants who walk these streets at night will and trust me dear girl, you are better off with me."

"Just grab the little twit and come on, Sherlock. It's freezing out here." John snapped, bored with Sherlock's game.

Molly barely had time to register when the crate was kicked to the side and splintered into hundreds of pieces. Her eyes opened wide with fear and she tried to scramble away, but was not fast enough. Sherlock caught her easily around her waist and lifted her up. She immediately started fighting. She bit, scratched, shrieked, and kicked, but it was no use, he was much too strong. She could hear his men mocking her…feisty little thing isn't she…the little kitten has claws does she…

Sherlock pulled her flush against him, his arms like steel bands around her small body. She shivered when she felt his warm breath against her ear, "Oh I do hope you fight like this when you are trapped underneath me."

Molly stilled, horrified at his words. She heard him chuckle against her skin and flinched when she felt his tongue trace the shell of her ear. She was shoved into the arms of John Watson, who pulled her into the car with him. Molly shrieked when she heard the gun shots. Sherlock entered the car then, putting his revolver away. John raised an eyebrow at his friend.

Sherlock shrugged. "I told them both that if I had to come and get her myself, there services would no longer be needed." His gaze fell to Molly and she flinched when he took her hand in his. She was still trembling from the cold and fear. "I am sorry that you had to see this Molly, as I am sure your little nerves are already at their breaking point," He pulled her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. She swallowed down the bile that threatened to force its way from her throat.

"Perhaps it is best that you witnessed this, my love, it is important that you understand what happens if my orders are not obeyed." He finished with another kiss, this time on her wrist.

She jumped when she felt a blanket being placed over her shoulders. "Would you prefer to freeze?" John asked her, draping another blanket over her legs.

Molly could feel the tears stinging her eyes as she struggled to hold them at bay. She knew she would have to stay strong. Her Sherlock would need time to figure this out and come for her. She would have to stay strong for him. Molly clutched the blanket around her shoulders tightly in her small, shaking hands, and retreated inward where she desperately tried to hold onto her sanity.


"What do you mean she disappeared?" Lestrade asked incredously

Sherlock huffed annoyed. "You know I dislike repeating myself, Lestrade, do try and keep up."

"Well what do you think happened?" Lestrade snapped back

Sherlock didn't answer; he just stared silently at the outline of Molly's body. Lestrade looked at John who motioned for him to follow him out. Sherlock didn't notice when both men left him alone in the morgue.

"What do you think he is thinking?" Lestrade asked.

"It's too early to try and understand what is happening in Sherlock's mind."

"What the hell was he doing here this time of night?" Lestrade asked impatiently.

"An experiment, of course. You know how he gets when he is bored."

"So he honestly thinks she just… what, evaporated into thin air?"

"I don't know what he thinks. I don't even know what I think! I've never seen anything like this…the way the lightening glowed and the scorch marks…he said he heard her scream right before he saw a blinding flash of light."

Lestarde snorted. "You both sound like you've been watching too much American telly…what rot!"

"Well what do you think then Lestrade? There is no blood. There is no body and no signs that anyone came in and took her. Besides, Sherlock says he was only unconscious a few moments."


Sherlock tossed Molly onto the bed before tossing her some dry clothing. He sat down in the chair opposite the bed and lit a cigarette. Molly took the time to really study his face. It was her Sherlock's face, only with a few small differences. His eyes were cunning, cruelly so, and piercing blue…a cold bottomless blue. He had the eyes of someone who had seen much despair in his life. He didn't shave and although she was loathe to admit it, the stubble made him even more handsome. His curls had been cropped short and she could see part of a tribal tattoo that ran up the left side of his neck, but disappeared below the collar of his shirt. He was thicker in build than her Sherlock and much more muscular.

He was watching her also, with twinkling eyes. Yes, he found the situation quite amusing and she found herself wanting to scratch his eyes out.

"Do make yourself comfortable Molly. This is, after all, your new home. Change your clothes before you catch your death of cold."

"He will find me and come for me."

Sherlock laughed loudly. "You think so, love? What makes you think I'd let him take you? Besides, if and when he ever does discover how to travel between the two worlds…" He paused when he saw the shock on Molly's face.

"Oh yes, love. I know exactly how you came to be here, though I doubt your Sherlock will be so clever…" Sherlock took a long drag from his cigarette and slowly blew it out, enjoying the burning it caused in his lungs. "As I was saying, love, even if he does come, I won't let you go."

"Don't call me that…" She said barely above a whisper.

"Don't call you what? Love?" He grinned wickedly at her. "But that is my name for you, little Molly. It's your place in this world, my dear, you are my love. You belong to me now. Although, I'm sure James will try and make you his. Perhaps I'll let him have you, just once, so he can have a taste. But then again, I'll have to go through the trouble of getting you back. James doesn't like to share his things anymore than I do. But he and I are such old friends."

"I'm not yours. I'm not anybody's. I belong to myself." She snapped

Sherlock giggled with glee. "Oh I do hope you keep this fight in you. It makes for such interesting evenings and such passion in the bedroom, don't you think. I won't even get too angry with you if you try to runaway again. In fact, why don't you try sometime, I would love to give that pert little bottom of yours a good spanking."

Molly's expression became horrified as his became deadly serious.

"Yes, love; this is your life now. You are mine and I will do with you what I please. But if you learn to accept me, accept that you belong to me, I can be as gentle and affectionate as I can be cruel and heartless. I don't want to hurt you Molly. This relationship can be beneficial to us both."

She could not stop the tears that spilled down her cheeks. She scrambled back against the headboard when he stood and approached the bed, sitting on the edge. He sighed and grabbed her ankle, pulling her towards him. She lashed out as he knew she would. He easily overpowered her, pinning her underneath him.

"Molly stop struggling."

"Please…please don't…not now…I'm so tired…please…"

His expression softened so quickly she did not see it. It was gone as quick as it came. "Would it really make a difference if I waited until tomorrow night to have you?"

She closed her eyes, more tears falling, and nodded her head. "Please…don't…"

She flinched when she felt his tongue flick over her cheek, tasting her tears. She heard him sigh and felt his weight leave her body. She kept her eyes closed until she heard the door close as he left the room. She finally released everything she had been holding inside and began to sob heavily into the pillow.

Sherlock and John stood outside the door listening to her muffled cries.

"I don't understand why she is so upset? She has a home now, she won't have to sell herself on the streets. She'll have your protection, food, clothing, anything her heart desires, and all she'll have to do is share her body with you. Why is that so terrible?" John asked

"You do not understand the world she came from John."

John blinked in confusion. Sherlock smiled.

"Yes, she was telling the truth. She comes from another place, very much like this place, but very different as well. The criminals do not hold the power where she is from, John, there is no martial law or a society ruled by fear and intimidation. Her world never experienced the next Great War that this world did. This world will be very hard for her to be accustomed too, but she must, because I will never let her go. After all, I wanted her the first time I saw her, the first time I was able make a bridge between the two worlds."

Sherlock turned and moved towards the window before continuing. "I saw her with him…and I thought, why should he get something so pure, something so sweet and innocent. He is ruled only by logic, John, he feels nothing. Therefore he does not deserve her. And if I must accept that this is my world, then I will have something good and pure as my reward."

"You mean…you planned this…you brought her here?"

"James and I both did. But it won't take long for her Sherlock to figure out how we did it and he will come looking for her. Not because he wants her, but because he won't be able to contain his curiosity. And he'll bring his Watson…an ex solider, a man of great strength of character and integrity. He is what you would have been John, had you not been doomed to be born in this wretched place."

"I wonder what it's like, being an honorable man." John said quietly

"You will know soon enough, when they come for her."

"Will you force her, if she does not willingly give herself to you?" John asked with a peculiar expression on his face.

"What's this, John? Sympathy for the poor girl's plight?"

"Of course not, I know what would happen to her should you turn her out. She should be on her knees thanking you for keeping her. You seem to already hold some affection for her, so I am curious as to what you will do if she continues to fight you."

"I don't want to force her and I hope that I do not have too. The sooner she accepts, the easier things will become for her. Perhaps she just needs to be shown what it means to have no one's protection in this world. Perhaps I will have you take her to where you first found Irene…before you bought her and brought her here."

John nodded thoughtfully.

"You're tired of her." Sherlock said. It was not a question.

John shrugged. "No, not necessarily, but she isn't as much fun as she once was. All the fight has left her. Perhaps I should tell her that I am going to allow her to go free, I'll tell her Mycroft has made a place for her at the Grange and she won't have to see this life again."

Sherlock tsked him. "Now who is being cruel, John. You'd never allow her to have her freedom. Your ego couldn't stand it. She's yours, she wears your brand. Why don't you just give her to James? God knows why, but he does desire the little twat." Sherlock lit another cigarette, inhaling it deeply. "Besides, you know my brother would never believe that you would willingly do the decent thing."

John shook his head. "How do they do it? Mycroft and Lestrade, still hold on to hope that one day men will go back to the way they were before…before the war…before the devastation and despair…"

Sherlock shrugged. "I think we need men like Mycroft and Lestrade….and Molly's John, it helps maintain the balance of the universe. There will always be a few good men mixed in with the rest of us."

"Perhaps tomorrow I'll take Mary and leave Irene be for awhile. She'll forget about what's it's like to be mine and let her guard down…that'll get the spirit back in her, when I take her down a peg or two. Oh Sherlock…you should see Irene when she is impassioned and indigent. She is so beautiful…her anger and hatred, the fight she gives me. I cum just from over powering her, she fights, she kicks, she claws and spits…it's glorious, She's absolutely stunning and when she knows she beaten, her submission and fear are simply divine."

"Or you could just give her to James for a week."

"I want her back in one whole piece, Sherlock."

Sherlock chuckled. "James wouldn't break her too badly, John. He's respectful of other people's play things."

John snorted in disbelief and shook his head at his friend.

"You know, in Molly's world, Irene is a professional dominatrix."

John's eyes opened wide in surprise before a grin crossed his face. "Really? How marvelous."